


A wellspring of hope

by amarmeme



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bethany Being Right, Chantry Issues, F/M, Free Marcher Politics, Friends to Lovers, Lost Love, Mage (Dragon Age) Rights, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, positive change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:10:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26240125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amarmeme/pseuds/amarmeme
Summary: Bethany Hawke has to leave Kirkwall and soon. The remaining templars are up to something terrible and Marian wants her sister safe above all. Bethany decides to forge her own path forward, rather than living on the run. She turns to Sebastian Vael, hoping he can offer her some support in relocating to Starkhaven. What she finds there is a connection she never dared dream for, and hope for a future she could only ever imagine.
Relationships: Bethany Hawke/Sebastian Vael
Comments: 9
Kudos: 16
Collections: Black Emporium 2020





	A wellspring of hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dabbingslytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dabbingslytherin/gifts), [hollyand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyand/gifts), [ritawheeler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritawheeler/gifts), [suchanadorer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchanadorer/gifts).



> There is no chantry bashing here, but please be aware that there are discussions of the chantry system and the plight of mages. Nothing too heavy, but the theme is important.

Bethany couldn't believe her luck. For the first time since childhood, Marian had given into what Bethany wanted. It was her life after all, and though Bethany appreciated _everything_ her sister had done for her, enough was enough. She put her foot down at the idea of living on the run again -- she was going to find her own arrangements out of Kirkwall regardless of what Marian wished. And somehow, standing firm and tall with her chin raised, the declaration had worked. Marian simply sucked her teeth and flapped a hand dismissively. 

_Well,_ Bethany thought with some surprise. _Who do I know?_

The list of acquaintances was woefully short; her friends were Marian's friends and were in no place to harbor an apostate. Merrill was staying in the alienage and barely had room for herself. Varric had followed the command of a Seeker and was headed to Orlais, Isabela disappeared aboard a ship and Fenris had left long before the rest, intent on killing every single slaver in Tevinter. By now, Anders was halfway to Maker knew where and while Aveline could help Bethany escape unmolested, the guard captain was needed in Kirkwall. 

Bethany's brow crumpled. All of the people she knew from the circle had left soon after the chantry exploded. They feared mages would be held to blame and had little reason to stay in Kirkwall, waiting for the wrath of the Divine to fall. Thinking back on that day, the sky filled with angry red magic, bits of boulders and rock falling on Lowtown below, desperate cries and devastating consequences, one misfortune felt somehow more permanent than the rest -- losing Sebastian's good favor.

Oh, but really _she_ hadn't lost it. Marian was the one who spared Anders. 

Bethany scrubbed her face with her hands. It was late, and she was tired of thinking about the past and her future all at the same time, wishing somehow anything could be normal. Having to leave her family home because the templars were acting bizarre wasn't even halfway surprising at this point in her life. If only she could find her way to a quiet village, one without a chantry or templars, where she could live unassumingly on her own. Perhaps folk there would welcome a woman naturally skilled at healing. She would patch up their broken bones and see them through fevered nights. Maybe there would be someone to love out there in this contented place, someone Bethany could call her own who made her feel safe and wanted and most of all, needed. 

_I'll always be a burden._

No. She refused to let herself go down that path, the twisted route into the prickly forest. Setting her own course now proved how capable she was. Bethany didn't need Marian to save her, to dictate her life any longer. 

Determined, she set ink to paper, writing a note to an old friend that she was resolved not to lose. 

***

The reply had come shockingly fast. Barely a fortnight had passed before Bodran brought her a letter. Bethany took it, thanking Bodran and slipping up to her room. It was addressed to her in a sloping, tight hand that looked as beautiful as its owner. A red wax seal held the note together, and Bethany traced the indent of a royal crest for a moment before breaking it. 

> _Dear Lady Hawke,_
> 
> _As surprised as your note found me, it also left me feeling much regret for how we last parted. To be certain, I am as resolute in my convictions as I was then, but reflecting on how easily I turned my back on our friendship gives me great pause. In my anger, I forgot myself. It didn't seem possible to think of hearing from you --or your sister-- ever again._
> 
> _I would be more than happy to help you in your situation. A few of my men are already in Kirkwall, and I will direct them to accompany you to Starkhaven._
> 
> _Please give my honest regards to your sister. I cannot say I agree with her decision still, but I do wish her well. If I had given the impression otherwise... Let me assure you that cooler heads now prevail._
> 
> _All the best,_
> 
> _Sebastian_

She read the letter several times over. It hardly seemed real. He'd done it, taken back his throne, and now had men at his disposal to collect wayward mages on a whim. It was a perfect solution. Bethany had to tell Marian straight away, for she was uncertain how long it would take before his men would arrive. 

Predictably, Marian was upset. 

"He'll send for you? And how are you sure what he'll do with you once you arrive?! You know the man's no friend to mages."

"That's not entirely fair," she pointed out. As far as she knew, the only mage Sebastian didn't like was Anders, and for reasons that Bethany could understand. 

"Fair? He said he ought to turn Anders and Merrill in more than once. If you hadn't been in the circle already, he would have likely thrown you there as well!" 

Bethany bit her lip while Marian raged, keeping her composure. There were worse fates than the circle -- hadn't she come out of it alright? 

"He never did report them to the templars, though. You all did questionable things in front of the man and he never betrayed you until Anders--"

"Don't even say it," Marian warned. 

"Sister, if you can't still admit what he did ended up hurting people, I worry for you more than my own sake." 

That put Marian out of sorts for a moment. She stuck her hands in her hair and shook out a ragged breath. Marian had more charisma than Bethany ever did, and the vivacity came with a bit of hotheadedness. Both Marian and Carver ran hot, she thought regretfully.

"He also wished you well, and I know you won't believe it, but I think he might sincerely regret that night. The way he left." 

Marian glared at the fireplace, now past her outburst. Reflecting on that day was one of their least favorite activities. Both preferred pretending it never had happened at all, that Kirkwall never had a chantry or a proper circle, and that secluding themselves within the estate was all for a lark. 

Bethany touched Marian's arm, then folded herself around her sister when she lowered her heckles. It would always be this way, the two of them against the world. Even if Bethany was leagues away. She knew that was the actual reason Marian was so recalcitrant; she couldn't imagine letting another sibling go.

"I won't perish on the way to Starkhaven and Sebastian won't put me into the stocks once I arrive." 

"I know," Marian sighed, clutching one of Bethany's hands wrapped about her waist. "I just wish you didn't have to leave." 

Bethany didn't feel the same. Not entirely. But admitting that a thrill of excitement coursed through her felt insensitive. So she swallowed it for the sake of her sister, her brave, caring and courageous sister. 

"Me either, Marian. But we know it must be done." 

***

Starkhaven was not what she expected, though really, Bethany had no clear picture of the place to begin with. Sebastian's men weren't particularly forthcoming. 

They had arrived the morning after her letter came and were instructed to wait for as long as she needed. But by then Bethany had already packed up what she was willing to carry herself. There wasn't much to bring anyway, given how little the family took from Lothering and how restricted her possessions were in the circle. She had something to remember all her family members by though, a necklace of mother's, a potion bottle from father's old supply, one of Carver's shirts that she still wore on gloomy days and one of Marian's favorite daggers. 

Her sister gave her the dagger at the door, flashing it before the two Starkhaven men with such flourish it made Bethany shake her head in amusement. 

"I love you," Marian said, handing the weapon over firmly. "And I'll see you soon again." 

"You will," she replied, willing herself not to cry. 

"And if Sebastian does anything I wouldn't like, stick him with this."

Bethany laughed, despite the two men outside. She could always count on Marian for levity. They hugged once more and then as Bethany walked out into the Hightown morning sun, she waved goodbye to the last person left in the world that she truly loved. 

Somewhat glum, but mostly optimistic, Bethany found the journey out of Kirkwall to be far less eventful than the one to it. There were no darkspawn or crowded ships. Sebastian's men were professional and perfectly polite, but also quiet. They kept to themselves, asking after her at several stops along the route through the Vimmark mountains, but otherwise shepherding her along as if she was a prized cow. At least they didn't ask about the staff on her back or comment on her witchlight in the dark. Starkhaven's circle had fallen years before and nothing had taken its place in the remaining years. Bethany felt it had to count for something, that the chantry, although welcomed in Starkhaven, didn't exert the same kind of force as it did in Kirkwall. Perhaps she was just being willfully naïve. 

The city, however devoted to the chantry, was breathtaking in its beauty. Where Kirkwall was rust, Starkhaven was gold. The high, grey walls couldn't hide the towering white castle at the city's center, nor the shining marble streets and stately architecture within. One of the men, called Erith, took in Bethany's stunned expression and grinned.

"There's not a view to match it," he said, ushering her down toward a long, stone bridge across the Minanter River. "There's not a city to rival her in Thedas."

"I bet," she said, eager to get inside. She had no idea where she would stay or how she would get by, but the prospect of exploring the city overtook any of those other concerns. It was shallow, but Bethany had to admit she enjoyed fine things. Marian was the one content to live in the dirt if need be. 

As they crossed the gate and each of the three walls within, Bethany's pulse quickened. She hadn't seen Sebastian in years. And now he really was a prince, not just the idea of one shut away in a chantry. He'd always been kind to her, and very easy to look at, and once she imagined he might have been interested in more than ... But oh, she was getting ahead of herself. He hadn't rescued her himself on a white horse, and there wasn't a red carpet rolled out beneath her feet. 

Sebastian had once told her Starkhaven was the wealthiest city in the Free Marches. The palace reflected that wealth. With tall, white marble walls and gold adornments, Bethany felt its authority and magnificence on her approach. Two towering statues of Andraste flanked the grand entrance, her mournful face on one side and the righteous on the other. Bethany blanched as she passed them, never quite firm where she stood with the Maker or his wife. Inside, the two men left her with another guard, a tall brunette called Hespia that reminded her of Aveline. The man Erith smiled broadly and gave Bethany a nod, speaking a few simple pleasantries before disappearing into the white halls. 

"You've made an impression," Hespia commented as she ushered Bethany further in the palace. They passed many fine portraits of handsome families alongside white marble statues, and tread over several plush carpets that ran farther along the floor than the length of the largest room in the Amell estate. 

Marian would have scoffed until she ran out of breath. Bethany took it all in with wide eyes, letting the words of the other woman wash away. 

In time and many turns later, they came to a closed door where Hespia knocked confidently: a one, two, three raps on the wood until a mustached man opened it. He curled his lip at the sight of Bethany, and rolled his eyes before fetching something inside. She fought the urge to twitch in her shoes, shifting her weight. Instead, she hefted her bag further on her back and marvelled at the surroundings. Who knew when she'd be in a palace again? 

The man returned with a tablet in hand and waved Hespia away. Bethany was left for his cruel examination. He frowned at her simple travel wear, the sturdy boots and pants, a clean tunic (she'd changed into it only that morning), and a scarf to cover her face from the dusty roads. She realized she should have taken that off, but did the man expect her to wear a gown crossing the mountains? 

"I suppose it will have to do," he sighed. He frowned at the tablet. "You're lucky the Prince is in residence. He’ll be available in three hour's time." He pointed down into an empty corner. "You may wait until then."

While Bethany didn't mind the wait, she had traveled for a fortnight. More than anything she wanted to sit and collect herself before Sebastian arrived, taking off her dusty scarf and freshening her appearance. The halls here were devoid of benches, as if it was out of fashion to admit one needed rest. 

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't catch your name."

"Senechal Granger," he said icily.

She resisted grinding her teeth and poured politeness into her tone. "Seneschal Granger, is there a place I could sit that is out of the way? I don’t imagine you want me on the floor.”

Granger couldn't have looked more irritated if he tried. Rolling his eyes, the man opened his flat mouth to direct her elsewhere. Before he could speak, a warm, welcoming voice filled the hall. 

" _Beth_ \-- Lady Hawke," it cheered. 

She turned to see Sebastian approaching with a smile so bright and wide she nearly laughed in relief. He dressed plainly for a prince, in dove grey breeches and a collared jacket with gold stitching, and it was strange to see him without the white armor. Sebastian approached and offered for her hand. She gave it with a bit of bemusement, watching him kiss the back of it, softly grazing her skin. A pleasant shock ran up her arm and into her chest, nerves tingling with delight. 

The niceties were new, but it would be false to suggest her reaction to him was as well. 

"Granger, thank you, but I'll escort our guest from here." 

"But your highness," Granger chided softly, "the agenda--"

"--can wait. It's not every day a dear friend comes to see me," he said cheerfully. Sebastian's eyes turned on Bethany then, and she fell into the deep blue sea of them. "Right, come with me, Lady Hawke. I'll show you to your rooms." 

"Rooms?" Bethany sputtered. She didn't even have the bearings to hide her thoughts, surprise clear on her face. It had not occurred that Sebastian would invite her to stay here, in all this opulence. Really, the escort was more than she expected at all.

He addressed her directly then, Granger forgotten, watching her expression change with some wonder. "What's the point of all this if I can't treat my friends as they deserve?"

Her bones turned to jelly. 

Damn, if he wasn't charming. 

Bethany followed Sebastian’s lead down further halls, reaching the rear of the palace. The Minanter raged behind the windows, spilling down a waterfall to surround the city. She watched her escort’s back and hips as he walked before her, heat rising to flush her cheeks as her thoughts strayed from what was polite. At last he stopped before a set of double doors, flinging them wide. Bethany stepped tentatively through, setting her bag on a gold-legged settee with a small gasp. 

Sebastian leaned against the frame behind her. His nearness was nearly enough to distract her from the view, but Bethany surged toward the ornate bed. The Starkhaven heraldry, three jumping fish, swam across the richly lacquered headboard. Above hung another scene of Andraste, her bare feet in the grass, offering food to the poor. Bethany looked away, marking the details of the large space — a balcony view of the waterfall, comfortable cushioned couches, a roaring fireplace, gilded artworks and gleaming pottery pieces on display. Beyond the fireplace was another room, where she spied a clawed tub. 

A strange sense of shame filled her insides. She spun around on a heel, finding Sebastian gazing at her with a fixed smile. 

“It's too much,” she insisted. “I cannot deserve all this.”

He burst from his place, reaching for her hand again. Instead of kissing it, he held firmly, underscoring the sincerity of what he was about to say. 

“Don’t think such things. Granger’s reception was not as it ought to have been, but you are welcome here. I cannot tell you how pleased I was to hear from you.”

Her face heated thoroughly and Bethany was grateful for the scarf, for it hid the blush traveling across her neck and chest. She supposed she would never rid these unworthy feelings, but Sebastian’s pretty words would make even the most doubting wretch feel optimistic.

“I didn’t have these designs in mind,” she felt she had to add. “I simply hoped for a bit of respite, that you’d look the other way.”

His brow fell slightly. “Look the other way?”

Her stomach churned. “I’m an apostate.”

To Sebastian's credit, he did not flinch, but rather grew closer, cupping her other arm. She sucked in a breath, very aware of his hands on her. Her nerves jangled now, as if anticipation of something reckless. But Bethany wasn't reckless. She was controlled and proper and even thinking of how the touch felt edged on indecent. 

"If I--" he struggled with himself, "if I gave the impression that I found any fault with who you are, then I've muddied things far more than I had thought." 

"You didn't," she rushed. "But everyone else will see a mage where she does not belong." 

His eyes filled with a righteous sort of fury before softening. "Let me worry about everyone else. It is my lot, after all. And I have an idea, a proposition." 

The first thought that entered her mind was him on his knee, and she nearly bit through her tongue at her foolish fantasies. "I'm listening," she said instead.

He spun up his hands and stopped touching her, which as much as she regretted it, she also couldn't think properly with him doing it. "It's in fashion now to have a court enchanter," he said. "At present, without a circle, Starkhaven has fallen behind the times." Sebastian grinned like an eager child waiting for praise. 

Oh. _Oh._

A million reasons entered her mind at once, why that would never work, but the first out of her mouth was the most obvious. "I'm not an enchanter." 

"Bethany," he said, and her insides melted at the warmth in his voice. "I've seen you fight, witnessed your control and mastery of your magic. And besides, you are of noble birth through your mother, and no one could deny the political importance of a Hawke." 

"I'm not my sister."

"Precisely," he laughed. "You're magnificent in your own right."

What did Varric say about Sebastian? He was butter, rich and smooth. Bethany could hardly deny the appeal of staying on with a position at court, rather than act as a freeloader, a burden. She could earn her place. But becoming court enchanter was also a far cry from her initial fantasy to float away to a quiet life. Performing in some way for others, that made her uncomfortable. Being a mage wasn't like being an ambassador or a bard, or any other kind of courtly role. You could quit the other occupations once it became too much. You could never stop being a mage. She knew how much she'd wished for it though. 

"Would I have to do magic, in front of others?"

His wistful expression, as if her comforts were dear to his heart, made her own heart hurt. "I would never ask anything of you that made you uncomfortable."

She paused, looking about the ornate room again. The situation was unbelievable. She escaped Kirkwall because of who she was. Now Sebastian was offering her a place in his court for the same reason. Her thoughts were all over the place, uncertain of her own abilities, unsure of how much attention she really wanted. Had he given the offer enough thought? 

"May I sleep on it?"

"Of course," he assured. "Take your time. For now, you are simply my treasured guest."

***

It took Bethany a few days to come to terms with the offer. She rested from her travels, sank into her large porcelain tub at night and explored the city by day. The generous boulevards were filled with more impossibly white architecture and overflowing greenery. The city was crisp and clean, and without her staff Bethany blended in as well as any other Starkhaven citizen. And without the presence of templars, she felt fully relaxed in her explorations. It was an ideal -- a city flourishing without a circle. And while they sent their mages elsewhere, Bethany knew there were likely apostates all over this city. Lacking the threats of templars, those mages just became regular citizens who kept their magic private.

She felt a wellspring inside her, as if Starkhaven was on a precipice that Sebastian hadn't even considered. And while he was resolute on avenging Anders' actions, Bethany also knew him to be kind and reasonable. As his enchanter, perhaps she could make him see where he'd gone wrong and that actually, a city without the circle could be far more productive for its people. All its people, even mages like herself. Perhaps she was destined for more than obscurity and everything else, all the prior hardships -- losing Carver and mother, living in the circle, losing the ability to stay with the last family she had -- all those things were tests and trials preparing her for a bigger future than she could have ever imagined. 

The wind under her sails carried her back to the palace. Not even Granger could dampen her mood as he led her toward Sebastian’s study. Bethany burst in after being announced, a rush of adrenaline on her lips. 

“I’ll do it.”

“You will.” 

She nodded. The responding grin on Sebastian’s face was worth the deliberations and delay. It broke across his face like sun through the storm clouds, and Bethany swallowed a pulse of glee at making him this happy. She wanted to soak it in and drew closer to the massive oak desk. He came around at the same time, taking one of her hands in his. Granger teetered at the door behind them, and Sebastian thanked and dismissed him in one breath. 

Her heart leapt in her throat. The combination of her excitement for the role and the undeniable allure of Sebastian Vael put her in a giddy, teasing mood. 

"I would have thought you'd have forgotten me by now. What if I'd never had written the letter?" 

Sebastian chuckled in a way that made her weak. "I like to think I'd have come to the idea in time. Though it might not have occurred until I gained a foothold in Kirkwall."

Bethany recoiled as if splashed with a bucket of cold water. What was a foothold? She knew Sebastian wanted to find Anders, and had sent the former Starkhaven templars to help repair the city, but plans of a "foothold" were new to her. Determined not to blow her position the moment after securing it, Bethany filed the information away for later. Given his reception to her now, there would be plenty of time to speak with Sebastian privately. 

***

Weeks passed before Bethany broached the subject of Kirkwall. She was allotted two weekly appointments with the prince by Granger, who held the pen most often. At first, the appointments were opportunities to trade stories about the old days, Sebastian asking after each member of Marian's misfits, with one notable exception. Bethany asked easy questions about life in Starkhaven, including where most mages were sent, if they were discovered at all. The tone of the occasions was earnest and warm, as had been all of her dealings with him before. He seemed to be the same man as she always knew, yet one who had finally settled into his purpose. If anything, Sebastian was more focused. No longer plagued with questions about picking loyalty to the chantry or his heritage, by all accounts, Sebastian was settling well as a leader. 

The subject of Kirkwall came up naturally. Sebastian mentioned his plans to annex the city, discussing work that would be hard, but worth it. Bethany's shoulders rose in discomfort. The bounds of her role were ill defined, which hadn't bothered her yet, but now she was uncertain if she was crossing a line. 

"Can I ask," she started, "do you think annexation is the only solution?" Sebastian blinked, taken aback by her pointedness now after weeks of easy conversation. "That is, if your primary motivation is still obtaining Anders."

A moment passed before he responded, where Bethany imagined the manner of ways she'd be tossed into the street. 

"He murdered dozens of innocent faithful. By taking control of the city, my men will be able to better ascertain the contacts he left behind." 

"Do you mean my sister? Or do you assume to control any apostates left in Darktown? If your true intentions are to apprehend Anders, then surely there are other ways to go about it?" 

The room filled with uncomfortable silence. Perhaps they'd throw her into the Minanter, or set her out in the middle of nowhere, only her magic to guide her. A series of feelings crossed his face plainly -- Sebastian was never able to hide his emotions -- anger, self righteousness, doubt and then disappointment. No, they'd send her to another circle, maybe Monstimard or Ostwick. She’d once heard Ostwick was fair, far fairer than Kirkwall had been. Sebastian stood up from where they sat across from one another, leaving a plush chair for the solitude of the balcony. Bethany wasn't sure whether to leave or join him, but after several moments alone she reasoned that Anders was a mage, and as court enchanter, she _should_ have an opinion on the matter. 

Ready to defend herself, she stepped out on the balcony. The rushing water broke the tension still held from the room, filling in the empty space where their words should have been. Sebastian looked over to the waterfall, composing himself. Bethany joined him along the railing, placing her hands on the stone. She held her tongue, allowing him to speak first. She'd done nothing wrong, and charging in to argue as such would do more harm than good.

"This may not make complete sense," Sebastian said at last, still looking away. "But I never considered the reality of what you just said until now. I'm ashamed to admit the implication." 

"The implication?" Bethany watched his mouth twist regretfully. 

"That I was on a hunt for all mages." He faced her and Bethany could see the turmoil clearly. "What you must have been thinking of me these last weeks." 

It was her turn to look away. Largely she had been thinking about how handsome Sebastian was, how charming and kind. How natural it felt to retain his confidence once again. Maybe because she never felt particularly proud to be a mage she had not seen the offense herself. But now that he had articulated the thought, it was as impossible to ignore as an aching tooth. 

"I don't disagree that what happened in Kirkwall was a tragedy. But what I'm thinking, what I've tried to put out of my mind since it happened, is how sad it was for everyone involved." She turned toward him. "I wasn't there, Sebastian. All I have is Marian's account, and the little details the others shared with me. Maybe that's why I never thought poorly of you. I would not be here now if I believed you to be prejudiced against mages. But the people of Kirkwall, any apostates left in the city, do they really deserve this? Would I have been captured alongside my sister and put to questioning? I'm surprised you haven't asked me once about him." 

"You're surprised?" 

He shook his head and traced his jaw with a large hand, one that had held hers not long ago. This time, Bethany's thoughts didn't skew improperly. Here he was, having a crisis of conscience, all because of her words, her questions. Had no one really asked him this before? Did no one here care about the people in Kirkwall? She sighed, offering her own hand to grasp. He took it reluctantly, jaw thick with unease. 

She squeezed, willing good thoughts and clear minds. 

"I don't have the answers you are searching for, but you know that. And I think you know the people in Kirkwall don't either. He escaped with his life, just barely, Sebastian. He will not return again -- there was nothing left." 

Sebastian dropped her grip, though gently. Grappling with his misplaced anger and hurt would take time. And maybe she wasn't the right person to do that with, but who else did he have? His entire family was gone, not even a sibling left to irritate him on occasion. Bethany sniffled back a surge of emotion, for her lost family, for his. So much was unfair about this world.

"I've upset you--"

"No," she insisted, wiping an eye. "I did it to myself."

***

Three months passed in a series of routines, her new life dictated by agendas and schedules. In addition to private appointments with the prince, Bethany began attending court. Sebastian held open hearings fortnightly, and asked for her presence there, believing it important she understood the positions, complaints and settlements. Magic was never brought up (as if the lack of a circle meant magic ceased to exist) so Bethany’s opinion was never _strictly_ needed. She appreciated the view into Sebastian’s duty, the balance required in running a city-state. While he was genuine, at times she noticed how tired his smile looked or how tight he held his shoulders. Granger did much to run things, but the big decisions, they were Sebastian’s to manage. 

After a particularly contentious court session, in which one of the gentry accused a trader of treason (Sebastian reminded him he was no king, and traders were free to favor Orleasians if they wished), Sebastian called for Bethany to join him for dinner. She'd not yet had the pleasure dinging formally at the palace, most of her meals were regulated to her rooms or sought out from various market stalls. There was still so much to see and experience, and the freedom to choose had invigorated her. Winding her way through the boulevards carried more appeal than stuffy dinners, given how restrictive the circle and even the estate had been at the end. She conveyed this to Marian in one of her letters, and in response her sister only replied that she was "rolling her eyes so hard they hurt." 

That evening though, Bethany pulled on her best dress, recently purchased with some of the wages she received as court enchanter. She was unsure if any other court enchanter in Thedas received a livable wage, especially considering they all _belonged_ to the chantry and their nation's circle. But Bethany wasn't about to argue with Granger about receiving payment, and she certainly wasn't going to discuss it with Sebastian. 

The blue dress had been tailored to fit by a professional, a luxury she hadn't experienced until the Kirkwall circle fell. Examining herself in a gilded mirror, Bethany took a few calming breaths. While the serious conversation with Sebastian had happened without consequence, she still felt unsettled by it in a way she could not pinpoint. She wanted to ask if he too felt the same way, but that seemed far too personal. They may have talked freely, but Bethany could not put his position out of her head entirely. She felt that at any moment, Granger would pop out of the woodwork and call her impertinent for asking about feelings. 

It was much to her delight then that Sebastian indicated the invitation was a private one. She met Sebastian at his study, pushing in tentatively, an array of agendas and questions floating through her head. He took her in with an appreciative gaze. 

“That dress suits you, Lady Hawke.”

The compliment went straight to her head, other details lost in the rush of confidence. Sebastian led her to a part of the palace she did not recognize. It appeared really no different than the rest of the place, but the paintings were new to her and the carpets less worn. Before they reached their destination, Bethany realized where they'd headed. Her nerves bounced up and down, demanding attention. She licked her suddenly dry lips. 

"After you," Sebastian said, holding open a grand door adorned with wrought iron fish. She stepped inside, revealing a much simpler version of her own rooms. 

Maybe her gut was wrong. 

"Where are we?" she asked. 

"Ah," he blushed faintly, which only made him more striking. "These are my quarters. They're a bit sparse aren't they?"

She laughed anxiously. There was little more to the room than a bed with a side table and a large painting of Andraste being run through with a sword while at the stake, flames licking her feet. It hardly inspired romance. 

With that somber reminder, she waited for Sebastian to lead again and he gestured to an adjoining room. A small dining table sat in the center, set for two, and the doors to the balcony splayed wide. The sun setting over the water was nearly magical, light glinting off the crystal waters. She stopped to admire the view and felt his presence at her back. She looked over a shoulder, staring up into his handsome face, wondering at the thoughts within. He seemed fully relaxed, duty forgotten momentarily as he looked down into her eyes. It must have been a lot to handle on his own, and if the state of his bedroom gave any indication, he was still very much alone. 

"Do you miss your brothers?" 

Confusion creased a small point between his brows. She wanted to smooth it back out with a brave fingertip.

"I miss Carver, though I don't think about him as much as I used to. But I like to imagine how he'd react in certain situations. It usually makes me laugh." 

The corners of his mouth lifted. "And how would he react now?"

Bethany grinned at the mental picture. "He'd carry me out of here over his shoulder."

Sebastian chuckled, but the laugh didn't quite reach his eyes. Just as she began regretting her choice of topic, he spoke. 

"I feel like all I've shared with you since you've arrived are my regrets. But I _do_ regret my past behavior. Had I known I would never see my brothers again because of it, maybe that would have calmed me down." He looked at her with a wicked gleam. "Somewhat."

Her insides swam with anticipation, the flirtatious game unexpected, but entirely enjoyable.

"Isabela always said you had kept the most scandalous stories to yourself. I wish I could have been there for more of Marian's adventures, maybe I could have coaxed them out of you."

"Ah, you think so?" 

He edged closer, hands barely cupping her upper arms. Bethany didn't care how a melancholy discussion of their brothers had led to flirtation. It felt good to be light-hearted in such a way and she did not mind admitting it. 

"I appreciated all the times you visited me," she added. “I missed out on so much though.” 

"Mhmm," he agreed, hands suggesting she turn around fully. She followed their example, folding into a near embrace. "Even with the little time we could find together, I thought of you more than I should admit."

"You did? _Oh_."

"Yes," he laughed, rich and deep in the way that made her legs weak. "I prayed a lot too."

She thought she should sit, not just because her knees were going to give out, but because this was far more ... intimate than she was prepared for. So she took a seat, abruptly, recognizing how affected she looked by him. Sebastian didn't appear put off, instead rather pleased as if a little bit of his old self had returned for dinner. She needed to fan herself with a napkin before sweat broke out across her forehead. 

"Should we begin?” he asked. She managed a yes and Sebastian called for the servants to set up the meal. 

The temporary reprieve their comings and goings provided was much appreciated. Bethany collected herself over a glass of wine, remembering the few things she wanted to consult with him on, namely approving the circles where they'd send any mages from now on, and his thoughts on the rumors swirling about a rebellion. She would ease him into her grander requests and advice eventually, once the questions about Kirkwall were put to rest. She did not presume to be a great politician, but she sincerely thought their previous conversation on the matter had moved him. 

Soon after the servants left, platters full and wine glasses refilled, Sebastian got to the heart of the matter. 

"I wanted to speak to you alone," he said, turning his glass in his hand. "And was hoping the meal would serve as a peaceable setting for us both."

 _Oh, no._ Her stomach sank. Maybe she wasn't as effective as she thought. 

"I have appreciated your counsel, but--"

"Bullshite," she interrupted. His mouth hung open. She cleared her throat and moderated her tone, not wanting to seem _irrational._ "Sebastian, if you appreciated it at all you'd have listened a bit better." 

He set his glass down and straightened. She could tell there was passion in his veins, but he held back. It was a strange evening, turning from flirtatious to argumentative so quickly. Her pulse flared, her magic close to her chest, bubbling inside.

"I really didn't think this through properly. I didn’t expect that reaction from you."

That felt so patronizing. She took the bait and stood herself, irritated enough to leave. "Maybe you should have, I'm a Hawke after all."

Then she did turn away, perfectly content to let him sit over their peaceable dinner and think about what an unreasonable ass he'd become. A fraction of a moment later his hand latched onto her arm, turning her back toward him. She'd forgotten the rogue beneath the crown, how quick on his feet and predatory he could be. 

She spoke plainly, evenly. "Let me go, Sebastian." He released his grip immediately, but strode ahead of her, blocking the path to the door. 

"Wait, _wait_ ," he urged. "Don't leave, please."

"Why? So you can tell me more about how you deserve to ruin the last place I called home? Kirkwall may not hold many perfect memories for me, but there are many good ones I don’t want ruined because you’re angry!”

"I hadn't planned on tearing the city down, brick by brick." 

"Does it matter how? What matters is your intent. I know you gave me this position out of charity, but I _do_ want to advise you against this path. It can only go poorly." 

He stilled, color draining from his face. She had said something that weighed very heavily, hinted at something Bethany couldn’t even begin to guess. She stopped pressing forward. 

“It wasn’t charity, Bethany.”

“Pity, then, misplaced guilt.”

A deep sigh escaped him, eyelids fluttering shut. Bethany considered all the ways this was wrong, that somehow he’d separated her from Kirkwall in his mind, as if she had never been there, been a mage in the circle that fell because of a power crusade. He’d lost track of what mattered in his grief and anger and perhaps that reasonable side she was sure still remained in him was lost as well. It hurt, reflecting in the silence, to think that anything she’d said, confided, didn’t really matter at all. And that was the root of it, if she examined further. All of it was personal, all of it was intimate. It was foolish to think she could do this, treat the problems as if they were solvable, as if anyone gave two figs about what Bethany Hakwe thought. 

She was a burden. 

A tear escaped when it was not wanted, and Bethany could have screamed at herself in frustration. She was not this weak. 

“I think I should leave,” she whispered. “I may have overestimated --”

“No.” His reverie broke. “I’m only trying to ... It is very hard to say what I’m thinking, Bethany. I _am_ listening to you, I have been. Trust me when I say you have not overestimated anything.” 

She glanced at the abandoned table. “I’m not feeling peaceable." 

"Then let's have it out. Talk to me, rave at me. Just don't leave like this." 

She raised her brows at that, curious what had happened just now to bow him over. It was as if they were speaking to different problems entirely, Kirkwall's annexation was just a scapegoat. This would happen with Marian, and until Bethany called bullshite they'd circle around the point. Hadn't she done that already though? Maybe her anger had risen too easily. She did not want to rave or fight. All that energy had flown outside and floated downstream.

"Who do you confide in, aside from me? The grand cleric? Granger? Are there nobles you trust?" 

"I put my faith in the Maker," he replied, opening his hands. "I trust Andraste to guide me."

"Sebastian, that's--" _insane_ , she wanted to say, "--I want to be helpful to you. I can't go back to sitting dutifully in a circle or the estate, waiting for everyone else to act on my behalf. I hated how much my family had to sacrifice for me after father died. Because I was their burden to bear. Mother couldn't even marry me off to some noble. 

"We never talked about it, but I knew how much it weighed on her. Carver and Marian were my only hope for a somewhat normal life, and even then, nothing since Lothering has been normal. I had no friends, no future, all because I can do this," a ball of witchlight hovered between them, illuminating Sebastian's face. The little bit of magic sparked and disappeared with a twist of her fingers. "I never asked for this. And your offer, wherever it came from, it felt like a future. I was so certain I'd be able to change your mind, Sebastian. I just wish you'd let me help."

"I'm sorry for what you've gone through, Bethany. No one deserves to feel helpless,especially you. You were made as you are, and by no fault of the Maker." 

"Those are pretty words, but do you mean what you say?"

"Ouch," he joked, recoiling slightly. "Lady Hawke, you are not pulling your punches this evening."

She shrugged. 

"You have made me question my purpose. No one else has done that, or come close to your influence." He rubbed his face with a palm. "Elthina told me once I was inconstant. Perhaps I'd gone too far, become too obstinate in an effort to not disappoint her memory." 

"I cannot tell you that," she said. "You can only ask yourself and try to be honest with the answer." 

***

The attempted dinner left a note of discord between them. Bethany thought maybe Sebastian was still afraid to be honest with himself. It was hard to admit your own failings. She knew that from experience. 

A few days passed before their next scheduled appointment. Bethany hadn't seen Sebastian at all in that time, and hadn't felt much like exploring. Her mood was sour, contemplative, lonely. Rereading the books Isabela had sent while she was in the circle did nothing to improve her mood. Neither did shopping, bathing, drinking wine or watching the sun rise. The initial enthusiasm for Starkhaven had waned, and now she was left feeling as ineffectual as before. 

When the appointment came around, Bethany contemplated being obstinate herself and skipping entirely. But only three minutes passed before she forced herself to her feet and jogged down to Sebastian's study. 

He was not there. 

"Son of a nug-lover," she swore, holding her side. 

"I'm appreciating an entirely new side to you, Lady Hawke."

Bethany swirled around to see Sebastian carrying a massive chest by himself. 

"I have something to show you," he said, hauling the chest to his desk. Bethany crept alongside him, peering over his arm as he opened the lid. He smelled like fresh earth and sweat, as if he'd just come from outdoors.

"I've been thinking about what you said. A lot. I've fired more arrows in the last fews days than I can count, and not many have made their target." 

Even if she was in a poor mood and still disappointed in him, his voice was like an aphrodisiac. She was lured closer. 

"I found this in the armory, well buried beneath a half dozen shields."

Inside the chest were dozens upon dozens of journals. They appeared unharmed, albeit a bit dusty. He picked up one and began to thumbs through the filled pages.

"Did you keep a journal?"

"No," he laughed. "I didn't have the depth or mental fortitude to do such a thing. These are my grandfather's. I never knew they existed. I thought maybe you could help me go through them, there could be something to learn from him. I only wish he was still alive to give me advice."

She touched his arm, drawing his attention away from the chest and the memories to be found within. Something was happening, crystalizing in Bethany's mind. 

"Sebastian, do you trust me?"

"Why would you--"

"--do you trust _anyone?"_

He set the leather journal away then held onto the edges of the chest as if for dear life. 

"You can, you know. I may be too honest at times now that you've let all this power go to my head." 

She smiled softly, hoping the joke would put him at ease. They'd been inching toward this conversation since she arrived. There was no distinguishing between her role as court enchanter and her role as a friend. They both needed friends dearly. But maybe she was the only one who could see it clearly. 

"Forgive me for being impertinent, but I can't help feeling that you are holding back from me. It doesn't have to do with Marian does it?"

"What? No," he insisted. "Bethany, I never cared for her that way."

Her heart skipped a beat. 

"What way are you--"

"I should explain ..."

They stopped speaking over one another and stared. A flush rose on her chest and she didn't even have a scarf to cover it. Sebastian released his grip on the chest and gripped her hands instead, pleading with those deep, expressive eyes. 

"After what happened I felt betrayed. I counted your sister as a close friend, and when I learned she helped ... _him,_ I began to doubt everyone. I don't even think Marian realizes how much her friendship meant to me, and that was somehow impossibly worse. I turned inward, and not wanting to be inconstant, I steered my ship in one direction only. And then you wrote to me. You said you needed help, and it brought up feelings I'd buried under the rubble in Kirkwall. Seeing you again, speaking with you, laughing with you. Bethany, can't you see? I trust you completely. You've shaken my senses and now I don't trust myself to do what's right." 

"You _know_ what's right. Kirkwall is not your enemy." 

He shook his head. "That's not--" he cleared his throat. "I already called it off. I made the decision before the night we argued."

"Sebastian! Why didn't you tell me until now? Why did you let me rail at you?" 

"Because I was trying to tell you something more important and I panicked, thinking I was making the wrong decision." 

"What's more important than invading Kirkwall?" 

She realized as soon as the words fell out of her mouth. Bethany blushed before he even began to speak, a full flush to the tips of her ears and along her hairline. Those bloody blue eyes were deeply transparent all of a sudden, and Bethany finally understood where she'd gone wrong. She recounted all their conversations in an instant, indexing the moments where she heard one thing, but took it to mean something else entirely.

He squeezed her hands tightly. "I love you. I was trying to tell you I love you." 

***

Bethany sat in one of the armchairs, a flutter of nerves in her throat preventing speech. She pushed back her hair and sighed deeply, knowing how it must appear to Sebastian, the way she refused to look him in the eye. He sat down next to her in his usual seat, as if they planned to carry on their appointment. 

"I take it I had reason to doubt my proclamation would be welcomed." 

If he was hurting, he didn't show it. Bethany wished she had the composure of a prince.

"Sebastian--"

"It's alright if you don't feel the same. Bethany, I hadn't meant to put you in this situation, I know it's unfair." He hung his head. "It's more than that, it was selfish. That's why I let you carry on the other night, I didn't want to tip my hand once it was clear you rather enjoyed your role as court enchanter, and were quite good at it. I shouldn't have said anything at all today, and I've made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry."

She laughed and Sebastian gave her a look that pleaded mercy for his poor heart. Was a prince apologizing to her for loving her? What was her life? 

"I just don't understand how things became so mixed up? You said you 'appreciated my counsel, but.' What was the 'but' for?"

"I would rather you were my wife."

"Sebastian Vael!" She jumped out of the chair. "Are you insane?" Her heart was pumping blood through her veins so quickly and loudly she couldn't think. "I can't, I couldn't!"

"Why?" he pleaded. "Is it because you don't care for me that way, or is there another reason I've lost my mind?

Although it was flattering he considered her in such a way, Bethany was annoyed she had to again state the obvious. 

"I'm a mage!" 

He jolted up and came to her side. The concern is his eyes was too earnest and Bethany had to look away. Her stomach felt so empty she was nauseous, then suddenly she grew worried about hurling on his stately rug. Being a court mage was one thing -- society allowed her that privilege -- but being married? Mages didn't marry. Unless they wanted to become an apostate, like her father, destined to run and hide for the rest of their life. 

"Beth," he said, voice raw. "You must know I don't care what people might say. And you would be safe. I would protect you with everything I have." 

"Mages don't marry," she reminded him. "The chantry wouldn't allow it. In the circles -- they spend their lives hiding their love from templars."

He pulled her against his chest and while she felt a surge of Marian-like stubbornness to resist, she folded easily. At least she didn't have to look at his eyes this way. But the comfort of his embrace was impossible to deny. She liked being here, held by him, sharing their secrets. Perhaps they could have started with easier secrets though.

"Maybe things shouldn't be that way," he whispered. As if Andraste would hear his sacrilegious idea and he'd lose favor. 

At his words, hopeful magic surged inside her, brimming beneath the surface. If she'd let it, a light glow would surround her, floating above her skin. Hadn't she wanted to get him to this point anyway? But from the counselor's seat, not the spouse's? Doubt crept in. It could not be so easy, she could not have affected him so much! 

"Are you saying things I want to hear so I'll consider it?" 

"Do you think me capable of that kind of duplicity?"

She ducked her head and pressed her fingertips into his sides. The feeling of him beneath her hands was intoxicating, addicting. She could so easily be persuaded to spend all of her time in his embrace. 

"No. Not really."

Long, steady fingers brushed aside her hair where it fell against her face. He tipped her chin, forcing her gaze up. The smile that greeted her was reassuring, and she felt better looking at him fully. Sebastian always managed to make her feel whole and good, no matter the chaos around them. 

"None of this matters unless you feel similarly, Bethany. I don't want to force this on you. I've dithered back and forth for days. Sometimes I would see a look or a sign that made me hope, and then I hated how I would have to ask you to sacrifice your position in order to please myself."

"And you don't think you could please me?" she teased.

"Ach, don't joke about that," he chuckled. "I have no doubt about my duties as husband in that area." The creases caused by his smile were endearing and she reached up to kiss a cheek. 

"Of course I feel the same way," she said softly. "I never dared hope. I only wished to be your dear friend. You seemed lonely, Sebastian."

His eyes grew full and her heart nearly burst with concern. 

"I was before you." 

Sebastian kissed her, pressing against her mouth and parting her lips with finesse. Fire filled her belly and she gasped as he pressed further. His hands, _oh_ , his hands fitted against her waist and smoothed her sides, calming and erotic at the same time. The kiss was everything she’d ever imagined it could be, honest and kind and so deep. Hope bubbled up in her chest and she could have lit off fireworks in the sky with the amount of love she felt in the kiss. She wanted more, all of it. 

Bethany realized then what she had to say. 

She pulled back regretfully, grinning as he attempted to steal several more kisses. 

"I've thought it over, and your last argument was rather persuasive. But I have terms."

"Oh?" His rich, Starkhaven laugh was far less polished than an Orleasian's, and entirely charming. "I didn't realize we were at that part, my lady." 

"We are." 

He raised his brows and kissed the side of her mouth one last time before stepping back. Sebastian walked to his desk and sat behind it, offering an open, sweeping hand to one of the chairs opposite. Bethany shook her head and declined, choosing to perch on the edge of his desk instead, legs crossed at the knee, her hands placed on top of one another. She was granted a wicked smile, as if Sebastian wanted no more than to sweep her back against the desk.

She wanted that too, though it could wait. 

"My proposition is this. I will gladly accept your offer as long as I also retain my position as court enchanter." He began to speak, but she cut him off. "Not because I don't believe you would allow me to pursue matters of my choosing as your wife, but because the position still allows me to stay in the chantry's good graces. I will not run and I will not put my family at risk." He smiled broadly at the mention of family. "I will not place an undue burden on those who matter to me when I can work within the system. For now. Until we change the system for the better. For now, those are my terms, to be revisited in the future as progress sees fit." 

“Deal,” he smiled, pulling her by the hand. Bethany settled in his lap, enjoying the spot very much. “I’ll admit I didn’t see the possibility of marriage without the sacrifice of duty, but I have a habit of overthinking a problem to the detriment of the solution.”

She pushed her hands into his hair, cupping his face. Bethany had to tilt down to kiss his forehead, enjoying how he clasped her tight against him as she did so. They sat in that intimate way for a moment, her lips against his warm skin, before Bethany pulled back and looked at her soon-to-be husband. 

“That’s why we need each other,” she said, tone turning a touch melancholy as she realized she did need him to keep her from doubting herself. “To make sure we do not remain too lost in our own heads.” 

It was as if he knew what was exactly in her own mind, what had kept looping through her thoughts every day of her life. He took her hands and kissed her palms, then set them in her lap. Sebastian searched her expression, watching her features shift to comfort under his examination. He touched her face, thumb tracing the edge of her brow, her nose, her lips. The callus-rough pad of it pushed on her lower lip and he kissed it, softly and sweetly. Before Bethany could melt, he spoke. 

“Beth, you must know, you are not a burden to me. I have heard you say it, but no one who knows you, loves you, thinks of you in such a way. There is so much light in you, such goodness. You are a gift, and if I have not made that clear before then I’ve done you a great disservice.” 

A flood of moisture threatened to overwhelm her vision and Bethany blinked back a few unshed tears. 

“You have,” she said, pressing her fingertips beneath her eyes to keep the emotion at bay. “I just may need you to repeat it.” 

“Always,” he said, enveloping her completely in his arms. “I will do everything in my power to make you feel as loved and valued as you deserve to be. I promise.”

***

She waited for a response from Marian for weeks, her nerves growing ever more exposed as another day passed and a letter did not arrive. Sebastian told her to not worry, correspondences did not always arrive so smoothly between the Marcher cities due to any number of reasons: bad weather, local observances, petty grudges. But she would hear from Marian in time, and the news would be well received. He was as certain as Andraste’s grace that would be the case. 

Bethany wasn’t so convinced. Marian probably had a dozen crumpled up letters at her desk, striking out phrases like, “happy for you” and “congratulations” until her quill snapped. 

The day Granger handed over the letter, Bethany leapt from her seat at Sebastian’s desk. The senechal gave his customary eye roll, but it didn’t even penetrate Bethany’s focus. She crept over to Sebastian and sat on the edge of his desk, her favorite place to think. The letter was addressed to Bethy Hawke, and she sniffed at the old pet name. Sebastian put down his work, waiting for her to share the words hidden within. 

Her heart raced as she opened the letter and began to read. 

> _Dear Bethy,_
> 
> _As you might have already guessed, it took me about fifty tries to get this letter right. Not because I didn’t know what I wanted to say to you, but because I wasn’t sure what you needed to hear. Because as far as sisters go, I know that I have been a fairly self-centered one. If your first instinct is to say ‘"no, of course not," -_ It was her first instinct -- _then I have already proven the point. I’m the older, demanding one and I have already turned a letter about you into one about me. But the reason I say this is because I understand more than you think. I know you believe yourself to be a huge inconvenience. That is not true. I probably contributed to that because of how much I made things about me. I’m sorry that you didn’t know this already, but I consider myself so lucky to have had your companionship for as long as I did._
> 
> _Now someone else is going to be lucky to have you in his court. (ha!) I was always better when you were by my side and now Sebastian will be_ _infinitely_ _ improved by your love and guidance. I know you already have made a huge impact on him. It is your goodness and kindness and Bethanyness that makes us half-way tolerable human beings. Never doubt yourself, and never doubt my love for you. If you ever need anything, I will be there. It is not a burden to be your sister, it is the greatest honor in my life. _
> 
> _Send Sebastian my congratulations and tell him I will eviscerate him if any harm comes your way._
> 
> _In loving devotion,_
> 
> _Marian_

She took a moment to collect herself before speaking. Sebastian watched with a patient grin, as if he already knew what Marian would say. And maybe he did, perhaps he had sent her a letter separately, weeks ago, expressing these feelings to what was once a close friend. She would not have put it past him, and if it was the case, Bethany didn’t care. Marian’s opinion mattered deeply to her, and to know that her sister supported her filled Bethany with a sense of wholeness. As if there was one sliver missing from her heart that had just flown out of that letter and sealed it fully. 

The love she felt for her sister, her near husband and most importantly, for herself, threatened to burst out of her chest in a series of magnificent tricks. Magic swam through her veins in triumph, itching to be freed and Bethany let a little loose indulgently, a bright shimmer and spark of light that leapt from her skin and burst into the air. 

“I am guessing it's good news,” Sebastian said, laughing, eyes filled with delight at her reaction. He scooted closer. Her crossed legs were between his knees, and he smoothed her thighs reassuringly with broad hands. 

“Yes,” she smiled contentedly, holding his hands in place with one of her own. “I would say it is the best letter I’ve ever received, but that honor clearly belongs to a certain message from a lovely, lonely Starkhaven prince who helped us both find our way home.”

**Author's Note:**

> I may have gotten fully carried away. Bethany does that to me. There is so much hope in her and yet she doesn't believe in herself enough. I think she could absolutely convince Sebastian to make reforms for good, and would come in time to realize how amazing she actually is. 
> 
> These two are meant for each other.


End file.
